


Happy Christmas, Ianto Jones!

by noahcomemidnight



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Torchwood
Genre: Alive Ianto Jones, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, Cute, Cute Ending, Domestic Fluff, Don't Judge Me, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Parent Phil Coulson, Pre-Janto, Pre-Torchwood, Protective Clint Barton, SHIELD, SHIELD Family, phil coulson has one child and that child is ianto jones, protective ianto jones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-24 16:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15634119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noahcomemidnight/pseuds/noahcomemidnight
Summary: Before Jack + before Torchwood, Ianto Jones had once worked with S.H.I.E.L.D, which was taxing work that had little regards to the holidays. Ianto just wishes for one quiet Christmas, but instead finds a banged-up Clint Barton being dropped on his couch, + is instructed to look after him. So much for a quiet Christmas.((originally posted to fanfiction.net oct. 19, 2016))





	Happy Christmas, Ianto Jones!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [noahcomemidnight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/noahcomemidnight/gifts).



> please come join me on this ship. I don't want to be the lone canoe over here surrounded by luxury cruises + freighters.

 Ianto Jones enjoyed Christmas time more than any other time of the year. Snow blanketed the land, candles and fire were kindled until they blazed, family came together, and sweet moments were shared. Of course, Ianto never exactly got Christmas off, as he was constantly needed at work year after year. This Christmas, like all others, Ianto received a call from none other than his work place.

“Ianto Jones.”

“Tasha,” Ianto almost felt his heart sink as he placed his mug of coffee on the counter next to the box of Christmas decorations he had yet to put up, “What do you need me for?”

“I need you to look after Clint for a bit. He busted himself up pretty badly on our last mission…”

“I’ll head over as soon as possible-“The doorbell rang, and Ianto went to answer it. “Hold on Nat, someone’s at the door…”

Ianto unlocked the door and opened it to find none other than Natasha Romanoff before him, a beaten and bruised Clint Barton using her as a crutch. Immediately, Ianto placed his phone down and helped Natasha move Clint to lay on one of his couches. The moment she let go of Clint, she took Ianto into his kitchen.

“Listen, Clint sprained his wrist and broke a few ribs as well as his ankle, but other than that, he’s just badly bruised-“ Natasha glanced at Ianto, before tilting her head slightly and furrowing her brows. “Do you only own suits?”

Ianto glanced down self-consciously, before he met her curious gaze once more.

“No, I’m not my father.”

“Coulson does wear suits all the time, and I suppose like father, like son…” She trailed off, before shaking her head slightly. “Anyhow, you’re to keep Clint here and resting. Fury and Coulson’s orders.”

Without another word, Natasha left, and Ianto brought his box of Christmas decorations into the living room where Clint lay. Ianto set the box on his coffee table and began constructing his artificial Christmas tree. It was hardly a tree to begin with,and resembled more of a Charlie Brown Christmas tree than anything. Nonetheless, Ianto decorated it with the various baubles he had and strings of silvery tinsel. Ianto began hanging fairy lights and tinsel above the hearth, having to stand upon a chair to set up the decorations just right and hang his stocking…

“Nice tree.”

Ianto jumped, nearly falling off the chair when he heard Clint speak. He turned to find Clint was sitting up, watching him decorate. Ianto moved to flat ground rather than the slightly wobbly chair (or perhaps it was his wobbly knees; while yes, Ianto did work in a life endangering job at S.H.I.E.L.D, he did still find himself wobbly on precariously placed objects), before making his way over to Clint.

“You need to lay down. Tasha said you need to rest, so I’ll make you some coffee and here’s the television remote I’ll also grab a blanket-“

 

“Ianto,”

“And I’ll grab you some ice and a heating pad… you’ll need to alternate between the two every twenty minutes or so…”

“Ianto,” Clint managed a small smirk (Clint had no real concept of smiling), “I’m fine honestly. You know what would help? If you could let me help you decorate or something…”

“No.” Ianto replied firmly, his eyes meeting Clint’s. “You need to recover.”

“Exactly. I’m not going to recover if I’m being told to stay on a couch and can’t learn to cope with my injuries.” Clint stood slowly, exhaling a shaky breath, trying to hide the pain.

Ianto was, in all honesty, slightly offended. Clint was mistaking him for an idiot, even though Ianto could clearly see that Clint was in immense pain. Of course, Clint was his friend, and as much as Ianto hate being treated like an arse, he let Clint believe he was, because maybe it would help raise Clint’s self-esteem. Ianto helped Clint stand, and didn’t argue any further against Clint not resting, as he wouldn’t get his bull-headed friend very far with arguing.

Throughout the afternoon, Clint helped Ianto decorate and prepare for the festive season. It was the least he could do, knowing that Ianto wouldn’t let him leave the confines of the apartment without supervision. Normally, Clint would have despised being ‘babied’, but he didn’t mind it as much, probably because it was coming from Ianto, one of the few people Clint classified as a ‘friend’. Even then, Clint felt like Ianto maybe wasn’t a friend…

As night fell, the light snowfall became heavier as massive flakes spiraled down in an onslaught as they stuck to the earth. The roads became icy, and the plows weren’t coming until morning, so Ianto took his time to so generously slave over making a pizza for himself and Clint (which involved unburying a frozen pizza, putting it in the oven, and waiting twenty minutes, but still). The two had a relaxing night, and as ten in the evening rolled around, there came flurries fluttering down on to the street just outside Ianto’s front window.

The next morning, Ianto woke tiredly, yet still before the sun had risen. He opened his curtains to find at least two feet of snow blanketing the roads, sidewalks, and yards alike. It was a winter wonderland to behold, and the orange glow of the streetlamps complimented the navy sky that was beginning to lighten. Ianto was about to sit on the couch, when he noticed Clint’s discarded blankets and pillow in a heap. As Ianto was about to begin his search for his friend and partner in crime, Clint strolled in, bandaged up in white tape. He wore the pair of pyjamas that Ianto had lent him the night before, along with a Santa hat, holding two hot mugs of coffee in his hands.

“Good morning. I figured I could at least do something to repay you for allowing me shelter here…” Clint handed Ianto one of the two mugs, managing a small smirk.

The two sat on the couch and stared out the window, watching the sun rise and kiss the cold snow with its naturally vibrant colours. Ianto had long since finished his coffee and turned to Clint, who was staring at the ceiling. Ianto glanced up as well, finding a small green branch-looking item hanging from fishing wire on the ceiling. He furrowed his brows and turned his head to look back at Clint, but before he could ask, Clint leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips. Ianto felt his face burn red, and Clint smiled an almost real smile, kissing Ianto on the cheek. 

“Happy Christmas, Ianto Jones.” He said softly, and Ianto grinned, feeling something blossom, even in the middle of the freezing winter.

 


End file.
